


A reason more to celebrate

by ThunderFrost2012



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Euro 2016, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, German National Team, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Sorry I couldn't resist, all my fave pairings are mentioned, basically it's about Thomas and Miro talking about the match
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 20:09:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7375705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderFrost2012/pseuds/ThunderFrost2012
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Right after Germany's (amazing) victory. Thomas just needs to do something...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A reason more to celebrate

**Author's Note:**

> Hellloooooo,  
> I know I have tons of fics to complete, but… I just had to write this little thing after yesterday (actually, I started writing it right after the match, but couldn’t complete it just in time :/)
> 
> I yelled, I exulted, I’ve cried … I felt our beloved Mannschaft in every single second of that never ending match *hides the fact she hadn’t the guts to watch all the penalties * 
> 
> But after such wonderful victory… sorry, I apologize but I couldn’t resist the temptation to picture in my mind (and on the Word sheet) this:  
> Disclaimer: I don’t own any of them, the plot is not real… but who knows? Maybe….
> 
> *apologises for her awful English… I guess I need a beta... again! *

It’s incredible, it’s almost impossible to believe. Germany has just won the Round of Four.  
  
Against Italy. The one who has been die Mannschaft’s ‘ _bête noire_ for so many years that they lost count of them.  
But finally it’s done, the nightmare is over, the sun still shines bright over the German fields.  
Oh well… in a metaphoric sense, it’s almost Midnight in France!  
  
But it’s hard to guess who in the whole German National team - Löw included- will manage to sleep.  
  
That’s what Thomas is pondering, while he walks towards the locker rooms.  
  
He recalls the press conference he had a couple of days before, declaring that this time Italy would be the one crying.  
And that’s what happened. He has seen tears on the Italian players’ and on the Italian rooters’ faces; but it was not a piece of cake for sure.  
The Penalty issue seemed to last for an anguish eternity, which he still has to recover from.  
  
After hugging all his mates and cheering with them, and even comforting some of their opponents, there’s just one thing Thomas really needs to do.  
  
He reaches his sport bag and search for his mobile phone, but before switching it on, sniffing himself, he figures out he must change the order of his priorities: he does need a shower. After all, he has been running for more than 120 minutes!  
Once he’s as fresh and scented as a rose, he can fulfil his goal.  
  
He knows it’s not an usual time for calling him, well aware that he’s already sleeping during normal days, but this is not a normal day. Thomas just knows he’ll be awake.  
That’s why he dials that number.  
  
“HELL YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH YOU BLOODY WON, IN SPITE OF ITALY!!!” is the loud and hyper-excited –but still familiar- voice that welcomes him at the second ring.  
“Miro?” Thomas babbles, puzzled.  
  
“Huh… well, I must admit the third beer I’ve got tonight had some effects on me…” The Pole justifies, trying to calm down. “But, c’mon, I needed alcohol… do you have any idea of how my guts are twisted? It was one hell of match!”  
“I know… I was sure I would pass out at any moment…. but we won!! Miroooo! Against Italy! Can you believe that?”  
“I may need a fourth beer to finally convince myself it happened!” the older replies, making him smile.  
  
But it’s a smile that can last for long.  
  
“Oh, Miro, I know that I should be only happy right now… but I can’t. I mean… I could have been the main reason that makes us lose the match.” the Bavarian yelps.  
“But you aren’t.” Miro makes him notice.  
“I know, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve missed a penalty! I’ve bloody failed!Buffon blocked my shoot! Shame on me!” the younger whines.  
  
“Thomas, dear, don’t be so hard with yourself. A penalty is always something scary, that puts players under a huge pressure. Sure, usually you do not even seem to feel it, but I guess it depends by the situation. Do you remember when you made a mistake during the Champions League? “  
“But… Miro... weren’t you supposed to cheer me up?” Thomas grumbles, feeling even more miserable.  
  
He had forgot about that Champions match.  
  
“You should let me finish my sentences, honey. I was about to say that compared to Euro 2016… Champions is just …. a friendly match among kids in a courtyard!” Miro manages to make his Thomas laugh.  
  
“Thomas, do you remember my very last match with Lazio? The one against Fiorentina?”  
“Sure I do…”  
“Well, I mean, there was no high-stake in that match, we hadn’t any chance to gain enough points to play at next Euro League Cup… and yet when the people, the whole stadium… my own team asked me to shoot the penalty we had gained… I wanted a hole to appear in the ground and devour me!” Miro confesses.  
  
“Oh, c’mon, you did it magnificently!” Thomas congrats with him. “But even if you had made a mistake, I’m sure everyone would have forgiven you. Miro, everyone loves you, but no one can more than I do” he murmurs.  
“Please, don’t make me blush. The point is that it was only a simple match and it was enough to make me tremble! I could never face a situation like that at Euro or World Cup, I thank my lucky star that it has never happened to Germany when I used to play in it!”  
  
“Those were the golden times.” Thomas declaims.  
“The point is that I admire you all and your courage. Even of the ones who failed, because, Müllie, you’re not the only one who made a mistake.” the Pole points out. “Lucky for us, Italians made them, too!” he chuckles.  
  
“I know, I know. Bastian is restless as well, Lukas is trying his best to calm him down… huh… actually, it’s almost twenty minutes I’ve lost sight of them… probably Luks must have found the most proper way!” he giggles, making Miroslav smile.  
“Mesut keeps cursing himself after that damn post and Sami keeps hugging him, telling him to recall the awesome goal he scored, instead!” Thomas reports.  
  
“Well, that action started only thanks to Mario, he played wonderfully… especially for that thing he made with his heel, in only Buffon wasn’t so damn good to stop it.” Miro recognizes. “So, haven’t you congratulated with him properly?” he interrogates his boyfriend, jealousy clearly within his voice.  
  
Thomas grins proudly, before giving him the answer.  
  
“Sure, he played a wonderful match and I would fill him with compliments… if he wasn’t so busy cheering someone else up!”  
“Who?” Miro asks him, intrigued.  
“Think about it… who among us felt guilty more than everyone else? Who allowed Italy to get that fatal penalty?”  
  
Miro could fall from the sofa he’s sitting on.  
  
“Mein Gott! Mario and Jérome?! Really?”  
“Yep, you know, things change and new stuff happens. Probably, poor Mario has grown tired of my whining I-miss-my-Miro-so-much-because-he-is-not-here-with-me-anymore mantra I put on every day!” Thomas confesses, making Miro both happy and sad at the same time.  
  
“Thomas, I miss you, too, every single day…”  
“This is a living hell! You know, with Lukas and Basti, Sami and Mesut, Mats and Benedikt running hand in hand during the training and professing their mutual love every single time, they have the chance to do that! Toni and André are a bit more discreet, but it hurts anyway…. Mario, I mean Sunny, is the only one who feels the way I feel… you know, even Manuel is about to get his extra-dose of comfort… probably Fips is already on his way with a giant jar of Nutella!”  
  
“Huh… comfort for what? Didn’t Manu make enough miracles tonight?” Miro asks him, dumbfounded.  
  
“I know! It’s what everyone keeps telling him! But he’s stubborn, he says he could have done much better, like blocking Bonucci’s shoot during regular time… or guessing everyone’s direction… you know that that guy is such a perfectionist!” Thomas rolls his eyes.  
  
“You know what? I guess that none of you should blame himself for anything. You did it, you turned the almost impossible dream finally real; Jérome saved the match so many times that it makes his naïve mistake more than forgivable… and Manu proved his talent once more… so really, what’s the matter?”  
“The matter is that you’re not here with me!” Thomas strikes back.  
  
“I know, honey, God only knows how badly I’d like to be there with you now…” Miroslav murmurs.  
“Too bad that Poland has been defeated and Robert already came back home, otherwise I could…”  
“Otherwise WHAT, Thomas?” the older snaps.  
“Just kidding!” Thomas childishly giggles. “I just love teasing your jealousy. Isn’t it clear enough that you’re the only Pole I want in my heart, in my arms… and in my bed?”  
  
“Well… you could try to make it a bit clearer!” Miro pretends to act insulted, although the last remark made him jolt and blush embarrassed. “Listen, Müllie, I know we’ve been apart for so long and it kills me; I can’t make a real promise, but I’ll try my best to try to reach you at the Semi-Final or –even better- the Final, but far away from paparazzi and gossip, because I don’t want to be only Klose who’s there to support and root for his team, I just want to be simply Miro who is there to see his boyfriend playing at his best on field.” the Pole declares.  
“Wow! Is it the beer that makes you talk this way?” Thomas makes fun of him, but truth is that he’s really impressed by his words.  
“Nope. It’s love.”  
  
Thomas could melt down and die happily after that Miroslav’s answer.  
  
“However, Thomas, even if I don’t manage to keep my promise, there are holidays, the away games… and even if I still haven’t the slightest idea about where I’m going to play next year… I have a certainty: it will never be over between you and me. We’ll always be there for each other. I’ll always be the shoulder you can cry on … or the first one you can tell a funny tale to. Distance or not, I will always be with you, Mullie.”  
“Aawww, Miro!” Thomas squeaks, tears in his eyes.  
  
“Now just stop talking with this poor old man who needs to go to sleep and go celebrate with the others, like you all deserve!” Miroslav exhorts him, making the younger laugh.  
“I love you, Miro.”  
“I love you too, have fun for me, too.” the Pole sends a kiss to the speaker, before hanging up.  
  
Placing the mobile back on the sport bag, Thomas beams, ready to reach the others.  
  
Now he has a reason more to celebrate.  
  
\--  
   
THE END

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I just hope Miro will be there for real… hidden from paparazzi! ;P  
> Hope you enjoyed this little thing.
> 
> Don’t you think Mario and Jérome would make a nice pairing? ;)
> 
> Maybe next time I could complete ‘Not very (n)ice!’ … maybe…
> 
> *sends love and cheers for the GNT victory once more*


End file.
